


It's Best Kept Secret

by IAmUnwrittenWords



Category: Horimiya
Genre: Character Study, F/M, This is just canon ch 1 but slightly to the left, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmUnwrittenWords/pseuds/IAmUnwrittenWords
Summary: And he looks so cool right now… so different from me right now…She’s so wonderful and bright, kinda opposite to how gloomy I am…“I just think it’s best kept secret, ya know?"Really, this is just the first chapter with self-conscious, better-disguised Hori and realizes-he’s-hot Miyamura.
Relationships: Hori Kyouko/Miyamura Izumi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	It's Best Kept Secret

“Sorry everyone, I’ll have to pass today.” There were disappointed sighs as Hori left the classroom, flashing an apologetic smile. It was a shame she never had enough time to actually hang out with them after school, and she was honestly a little surprised they still tried inviting her each time. Maybe one day she’d say yes, but for now, she needed to get to the store and buy ingredients for dinner, especially if she wanted to nab some of the sales going on.

Hori practically skipped out the main doors, the brown waves of her hair catching the afternoon sunlight like threads of finely spun silk. A few strands fell in front of her face, and she huffed in annoyance. Pulling a hair tie from her wrist, Hori wrapped her hair into a messy bun at the base of her neck. Almost to mourn the way she treated her lovely locks, a strong wind blew, whipping any loose hair out of the elastic’s embrace.

_ Geez, it’s getting colder each day.  _ Hori slipped into the nearest convenience store, nodding politely at the clerk before heading into the bathroom. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a faded, grey tracksuit.  _ Good thing I keep a change of clothes. _ She wasted no time changing, humming with contentment as her uniform was replaced with something warm and familiar. Her school clothing was overall quite stylish, but nothing could beat this baggy comfort.

Hori folded her uniform and neatly tucked it in between her books. She slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to go, but paused when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full-length mirror by the door. With the exception of the make-up on her face, Hori looked like a housewife. She reached up to touch her cheek, just to confirm it really was her reflection. How did she never notice?

_ Probably because I’m never around a mirror at home. _ The only mirrors in the Hori household were above the bathroom sink, so of course she wouldn’t notice that her chore clothes gave off this kind of image. She didn’t really care at home, since Souta and her parents were the only people who would see her. But she wasn’t home. She was actually heading out to a store by her school where she could definitely run into her classmates. She absolutely did not want to run into her classmates. Hori was surprised when she saw herself; how would her peers react?

_ I don’t want to find out. _ Hori grabbed her hand towel from her bag and flicked on the sink. There was only a bit of foundation and lip gloss, but she scrubbed her face until she was sure nothing was left behind. When she looked back into the mirror, Hori sighed with relief. It was her face, but she was sure no one else could tell. Her classmates had never seen the line of acne scars across her chin, the sun freckles dotting her cheeks, the tired purple bags beneath her eyes. They would now, but no one would know it was her.

* * *

Miyamura stayed at his desk reading until the sounds of his classmates moved out the classroom and down the hallway. He sighed with relief, leaning back in his chair. It felt weird to listen in on everyone’s plans for the afternoon, but he didn’t want to get up and draw attention to himself. Miyamura leaned back, letting his hair fall away from his face.  _ The last time I got up, everyone was surprised I was there. As if I’m invisible until I move. _

He didn’t mind that he wasn’t part of a group, but there was a bitterness to being invisible. The fact that no one even thought to acknowledge he was in the room left a heavy feeling on his shoulders. His hand drifted up towards his ear, fingertips brushing over the multitude of holes in the cartilage. His piercings weren’t originally done to get attention, but they now gave him a way to feel seen. There was something pleasant in the different ways people would look at him, ranging from the curious stares of children to the disapproving glares of elderly women.  _ I should use those new studs I got the other day. I could wear them for a walk around the neighborhood. _

Humming in self-agreement, Miyamura packed his things and started walking home. The courtyard was still bustling with students, lingering to talk to friends or preparing for extracurriculars. No one really noticed Miyamura. And all the way home, no one really noticed Miyamura. The closest he got was a housewife who almost ran into him as she rushed out of the convenience store; she did a little bow/apology before jogging away. After that, he didn’t have contact with anyone else. The sidewalk was empty. The elevator in his complex was empty. The apartment was empty, save for a note from his parents saying they’d be in the bakery until late that night.

Miyamura opened his phone, scrolling through his music library until he found a playlist that was fast and loud. His phone’s speaker blared, replacing the silence of his home with drums and bass and song. He shuffled to his room, pulling off his uniform as he went. Miyamura always felt sticky in his school jacket, mostly because he was always swimming in his own sweat. Even as the weather cooled, he still felt over warmed during classes. The jacket was thrown onto his bed, quickly followed by his button-up and slacks. There was nothing quite as freeing as being at home in only his boxers.

_ But I guess I can’t go out like this.  _ Honestly, everyone else was missing out due to decency laws. Miyamura glanced over his shoulder at the mirror on his door. Black ink carved down his back, curving onto his side and down his thigh. It took months to get this artwork onto his body, and only he and his family got to see it. Even with such a limited pool, Miyamura tried to keep it covered when his parents were home. They would always say they supported his choices, but he saw the worry in their eyes. 

_ Not that I can blame them. A kid with tattoos is usually a bad sign. _ Miyamura laughed to himself as he sorted through his pin box, separating out the bobby pins from the safety pins. Turning to a mirror, he shoved a few between his lips and started pulling back his bangs. Even as he pinned his hair back, small strands would fly away, and he’d shove a few more pins to secure everything down. He wasn’t the best at styling hair, but as long as it didn’t get in his eyes, it was good enough.

Miyamura didn’t waste any time with his piercings or outfit. Unlike his hair, everything was easily arranged upon his body. He looked like a hot mess, but that’s what he was aiming for. People loved to look at a hot mess. Leaving his room, he grabbed his phone and stopped the music. And the apartment was empty again.

“I’m heading out.” Miyamura said to no one.

The door quietly clicked close behind him.

_ Oh my. _ Miyamura fought back a small smile as he walked along the sidewalk. Housewives never understood that their whispers were never really whispers. Adding a bit more breath to their words did not make them quieter. He soaked in the sounds, revelling in the attempted quiet and poorly concealed attention.

“WAH!” Breaking from his reverie, Miyamura looked across the street. A small boy was sprawled across the sidewalk, face scratched and covered in tears. The child rubbed furiously at his eyes as he got to his feet, but he couldn’t stop crying. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose. Miyamura frowned with each tentative step the kid took on half-buckling legs; if he couldn’t just get up and go, something was very wrong.

_ You’re alright, sweetie! Just walk it off! _ Miyamura glanced at the housewives, half-angry they couldn’t see this boy was definitely not alright. The two women stiffed under his gaze and shuffled further down the road. They… were going to ignore him. Taking a deep breath, Miyamura pushed down the ugly, sharp words he felt in his throat, choosing instead to cross the street and help.

“Hey, are you alright? Do you need help?” Miyamura bent down so he’d be eye-level with the child. The child replied with a curt shake,  _ no _ , then a tentative nod,  _ yes. _ Pulling a tissue from his pocket, Miyamura gently pinched the kid’s nose and tilted his head forward. There was a brief moment of panic when the boy forgot he could also breath through his mouth, followed by the audible and steady sound of a very deliberate “breath-in, breath-out.”

“That was a nasty fall. You should head home. Would you mind if I walked you there?”

There was only the sound of breathing. Miyamura tilted his head, urging the boy to reply. “I…” He pushed Miyamura’s hand away so he could speak clearly, “... shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”

“Ah. Someone’s got street smarts.” Miyamura tossed the tissue in a nearby trash bin. “Well, I’m Izumi Miyamura from Class 2-1 of Katagiri Senior High School. My family runs a cake shop called  _ Iori _ that’s on the main road for the shopping center. I’ve got 9 piercings and a tattoo that runs down my right side.”

The boy stared at him blankly.

“That should be enough to make me not a stranger. And it’s definitely enough information for the police to find me if I step out of line,” Miyamura teased.

Realization flooded the child’s face, quickly followed by a type of relief. “Yea! Thank you for helping me, Miyamura! I’m Souta Hori. And I fell because a big dog was chasing me. I ran  _ super _ fast to get away, but I wasn't too good at actually stopping when I got away"

“Whoa, that sounds terrifying Souta! You must’ve been  _ flying _ down the road.” Souta puffed up a giddy pride as Miyamura extolled his bravery. "But…"

"But?" The child’s face dropped.

"Hm… it'd be dangerous going home if that dog is still around. Ah~ if only there was someone who could keep a lookout while you walked home," Miyamura sighed dramatically, looking absolutely distraught there was no one to help. The sides of Souta’s mouth twitched into the tiniest smile. "Preferably someone taller… and with, uh, special dog scaring earrings…"

With a small laugh, Souta held out a hand. "You're funny. I live this way."

As they walked, Souta made polite conversation, asking Miyamura about his family’s store and complementing his style and mentioning how his sister went to the same school. “Maybe you know her? Kyoko Hori? She’s smart and cool and...hm… about your height. And I think she’s in the same class as you.”

Miyamura knows exactly who Souta is talking about, humming a soft acknowledgement. He watched her turn down karaoke and rush out of the classroom just 20 minutes ago. Probably to get home and care for her brother. He didn’t know Kyoko too well, but it felt oddly right that she would be the kind of person to put family first.

“I think she’d really like you, Miyamura.” Souta stopped them in front of a simple suburban home.

“You can call me Izumi.” He pushed open the front gate and pulled Miyamura inside.

“Izumi… you should stay for dinner.” With his spare hand, Souta reached up and rang the doorbell.

“I…” Miyamura searched for the right words, “...wouldn’t want to intrude.” And the door swung open. Miyamura almost,  _ almost _ said something along the line of how Souta’s mother looked so young, but when the boy said  _ sister _ , he was thankfully able to keep the words trapped within his throat. 

* * *

“Souta! What happened to you? Ah, you’ve got a little bit of blood in your nose.” Hori was immediately bustling when her younger brother came home. Dabbing her handkerchief on the tip of her tongue, Hori got to work wiping away the dirt and grime on his small face. Once or twice, Hori couldn’t resist the temptation to pinch the baby fat of Souta’s cheeks; he endured, with only a small huff of annoyance.

“I’m glad you got home safely,” Hori murmured with her last wipe.

“I had some help. Izumi walked me home.”

_ Izumi? _ Hori looked back at the doorway and finally noticed the young man awkwardly hovering just outside. She didn’t know how she missed him! His whole style screamed “ _ notice me.” _ Her eyes darted around—arm tattoo, fashion tee, silver earrings—before fixing on his face. 

“Thank you so much for helping my brother. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Oh, he was no trouble at all. Your brother is a sweet kid, very polite.” The stranger placed a hand on the back of his neck, obviously feeling a little out of place between the two siblings. “Well, I should get going.”

Hori felt Souta’s hand squeeze on her sleeve, and she saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

“Please, wait,” Hori called out as she stood back up, “We’d like to thank you. Would you like to come in for some tea?”

He paused, still halfway turned to leave. “I… wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’d actually be delighted if you could stay. It looks like Souta’s gotten quite fond of you in such a short time. But, I’d totally understand if you don’t have the time…” Hori’s tone slipped back into her high schooler setting halfway through, bright and sweet. She took a small step back when he whipped around, obviously surprised, but also as if he’d discovered something amazing. Their eyes locked for a moment.  _ His eyes are so blue. _

“I… I have time for tea. Thank you for your hospitality.” With a slight bow, the young man shuffled out of his shoes and into her home. Hori looked down at her brother, and her heart practically melted at how overjoyed he was. She gave him a small push towards the dining room table while she went into the kitchen for tea. It was rare for Souta to attach to someone so quickly, so Hori decided that this stranger was definitely a good person.  _ And good people should get the best tea. _

Hori grabbed the tea tin hiding on top of the fridge and popped open the lid. The leaves were still just as fragrant as the day she bought them—some last minute sale at a little tea shop—and she breathed in the deep, almost earthy scent. The water boiled, the leaves were seeped, and the scent overflowed from the tea cups like the warmth overflowing Hori’s heart as she saw Souta grinning as he talked to his new friend.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Not at all. Souta was just telling me about his favorite anime.” He took a moment to grab his cup, dipping his head in a small thank-you. “Your brother is watching the  _ absolute  _ coolest show in all of history, and he was just telling me about it now.”

“I have the first season on DVD,” Souta said, bouncing out of his seat, “I’m gonna let you borrow it!”

“Souta! Don’t run inside!” Hori called out, but her brother was already gone. She huffed slightly, but not enough to break the smile on her face. “Geez, after he got so excited, I can’t believe he’d just leave you here. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way to return it later, either.”

“Hm, I could always just hand it back to you during class.” He took a sip of his tea.

“Still, I’m sure that… huh?”

“Or after school. I guess it would be pretty weird to exchange a children’s anime during class.” After a brief pause, he scooped a spoonful of sugar into his cup.

“Huh?”

“Or I could leave it in your shoe locker? No hassle, super easy.” He took another sip, letting out a soft hum of appreciation. 

( _ Ah, one scoop of sugar.  _ She tucked away that information for later.)

“No! No, I’m not bothered by… Do… do we, uh, go to the same school?” Hori stumbled over the words a bit. She knew most of the people in class, or at least she thought she did. More than that, she was wondering how he had recognized her. She looked  _ different, _ she was absolutely sure.

“Oh, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I’m Izumi Miyamura, from your class.”

“Oh!” Hori was suddenly very aware that this was not a stranger, and she subtly turned her head so he couldn’t see her face as well. “I’ve only seen you in uniform, so I’m sorry for not noticing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t have recognized you if Souta hadn’t told me on the way here,” Miyamura reassured as he drained his cup. “And speaking of Souta-”

The child bounded back into the room, a slim DVD case in his hands. Hori watched over the exchange, fidgeting with the tea cup handle as the anime exchanged hands. She didn’t mind talking to Miyamura—at least from their small conversation—but she didn’t want any of her classmates to know she looked like this. He never really talked to anyone in class, but she still spoke up:

“Um, Miyamura? Could you not let anyone from school know?” Hori tried to look up at him, but she was too enraptured by her tea cup. “I don’t… I don’t want people to know how I look outside of class.”

Miyamura cocked his head to the side. “But you’re not breaking any of the dress code rules?”

“Huh?” 

“Like, I have to look different because boys aren’t technically allowed piercings, and my tattoos would freak some parents out,” Miyamura explained, “But there’s nothing wrong with tying your hair up. I think it looks nice; it shows off how pretty your face is, Hori.”

At that, Hori whipped back up, cheeks dusted pink. Miyamura looked back at her, genuinely confused and sincere. Her hands went back to her cup. Really? Even she was shocked when she looked in that bathroom mirror just a few hours ago. How was he just accepting it? Did he not see how this was a little embarrassing, looking like a tired mother when she was really just a young girl? 

_ And he looks so cool right now… so different from me right now… _

“I just think it’s best kept secret, ya know?”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Miyamura conceded with a little shrug, “Especially if  _ you _ promise not to let the school know how  _ I’m _ constantly breaking dress code.”

Although she tried her best, Hori could hold back her laughter. It burst forth, short and harsh but full of relief and joy. Their lines of thought were just so different.

Honestly, the school couldn’t really do anything about his piercings or tattoos; they’d just ask Miyamura to continue covering them up. Nothing would really change. And who cared about a few disappointed looks from the teachers and staff! At least his friends wouldn’t know. At least his friends would treat him the same...

* * *

Across the table, both Miyamura and Souta watched her, their brows matching sets of knitted confusion. He didn’t understand her. Miyamura saw how she was at school, like she was the model for the standard popular girl, and that just fell flat compared to the girl before him. He liked how relaxed she was, just small smiles and warm eyes. She felt like home, or at least the way he imagined a home should feel like. Being with her felt easy, so he didn’t understand why she felt so uneasy about being seen.

_ Why would she ever want to hide how she’s different at home? She’s so wonderful and bright, kinda opposite to how gloomy I am… _

“Hori?”

“Ah, sorry,” she apologized, taking in a small breath to center herself, “Just thought of something funny. I can definitely keep this just between the two of us.” 

Miyamura noticed the change, the little switch back to school Hori. He could see it in the way her smile didn’t wrinkle the corners of her eyes and how her shoulders rolled back into better posture. He didn’t know what happened, but he already missed her.

“Well,” Miyamura practically sighed, “I should start heading home.”

“Aw~ Izumi, stay for dinner!” Souta pleaded, “My sister is a super good cook!”

Miyamura didn’t doubt it, but that feeling of  _ home _ was fading quickly. And if he was going to feel like an outsider, it might as well be in his own apartment.

“As amazing as that sounds, I gotta get home. If I don’t go now, I won’t have enough time for the first couple of episodes.” He wiggled the DVD case in his hand, and Souta gave in with a tiny  _ okay. _ What a cute kid. Miyamura gently ruffled Souta’s hair, earning soft laughter.

“But you’ll come visit again, right?”

Miyamura’s hand froze in place. Despite how much he liked Souta, he didn’t think he could. It would be easier if he just watched this one DVD, slipped it into Hori’s locker, and just moved on with life as usual.

“You know,” Miyamura looked over at Hori, and he felt all the air leave his lungs. “we’d love to have you over again.” 

She was back.  _ Her eyes are golden. _ Miyamura realized something: whenever he went out, people never looked at him. They were looking at his earrings or his tattoos or his hair or just one part of him. Hori was looking at him, all of him, with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Maybe she just liked how he interacted with her brother, but...

He could fall in love, if he wasn’t careful.

“Ah, when you put it like that… I guess I’ll see you soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love thinking about why Miyamura really dresses up outside of class. And I really just wanted Hori to have a better disguise. And this is what happened (✿◡‿◡)


End file.
